


Rivals

by rollieollie



Series: Werewolves at Hogwarts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rollieollie/pseuds/rollieollie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson and Stiles in an empty locker room. Two rivals in quidditch, two boys with hormones screaming. What happens when the unthinkable occurs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivals

The truth of the matter is, he’s had a thing for the scrawny little shit since fourth year. That was the year Stiles made the Hufflepuff team. Sure, everyone laughed about it. His ADHD was enough to rival the most sugar laden muggleborn on his first trip to the castle and Jackson, as Captain of the quidditch team, made his own jokes. Hell, the kid was an utter calamity and everyone was laughing. Until the first game.

Ravenclaw was a force to be reckoned with and with Lydia heading it this year, everyone knew even Slytherin was going to have a hard time winning the cup. And then that little fucker had taken to the field with that shining stupid grin and his feeble attempts to even stay steady on his broom. Jackson had laughed then too, nudging Danny who was also from Ravenclaw. It had been fucking hilarious.

Until the guy caught the snitch forty five seconds into the game before a goal had even been scored.

He had to give it to him, that took either some fucking impressive skills or some goddamn good luck. Jackson chalked it up to luck and that’s when it all changed. The bits of taunting and trash talking escalated until Jackson wasn’t even sure where the line was drawn. He didn’t care because something about the way the asshole taunted him back set a fire in his chest. He wasn’t just a little pushover after all.

But Jackson wasn’t so good at competition, even if it was a little bit promising to have some. And two years later the boys were in a heated argument in the locker room when it happened.

Jackson was bitching about Scott, how the Gryffindor shouldn’t be allowed on the team. He was stronger, smarter and more deadly than the rest. Werewolves had no business being allowed on the field. Instead of Stiles just throwing back some sarcastic remark, the guy was in his face.

Jackson pushed him away, slamming his lithe frame against a locker. He was staring down, his eyes seeing anger and embarrassment in the other boy’s eyes. That’s when it happened.

Jackson Whittemore, the pureblood playboy of the castle, found his lips crashing down onto Stiles Stilinski, the usually picked on muggleborn Hufflepuff idiot. Not only that but his hands were suddenly in his hair and the brush of the locks against his fingers sent electricity through him.

He pulled back, eyes wide, “You don’t fucking tell anyone about this Stiles,” he shot out, torn between two very different motives. Running for the door and pretending it had never happened or leaning down and –

He chose the latter, making sure to slide his tongue along the other boy’s lips before pulling back again, his breath heavy from his chest. “Midnight. Room of requirement,” he stuttered, grabbing his gear and booking it before he could think about it.

That’s how it all started.


End file.
